Spring Cleaning

There are pieces of me they've stolen,
those parts I will never get back,
there are sides to me they've changed,
maybe they're the reason I wear all black.

I've had my heart ground to slop,
it's these feeling that soak into the mop,
when I try to clean up this mess of me,
all I can do is ring out this stress in me.

Now what I have left is a bucket of love,
mixed with pain, blood and a few grams of drugs,
the smell makes me sick like a disease,
no wonder I get addicted to them with ease.